


Chae

by GoldenSun, JordanUlysses



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Case Fic, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-10 06:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenSun/pseuds/GoldenSun, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JordanUlysses/pseuds/JordanUlysses
Summary: Agent Chae-seon Khan is a new addition to UNCLE's New York office, but to Illya's dismay she and Napoleon seem to have gotten quite close in a short amount of time. Then, Napoleon disappears on what should have been a routine mission and, needing all the help he can get to find his partner, Illya has to team up with her ...





	1. A Solo Mission

Illya was staring at the spot of sunlight slowly moving over the ugly beige carpet. The only sounds in the room were a clock ticking rather loudly and his quiet breathing. It had already been ten minutes of this relative silence and Illya wondered how long the Doctor would let it go on. He would not be the first one to speak, that was sure.

Another minute, and then … “Mister Kuryakin.”  
He slowly raised his head, looking at her without blinking, but she just stared back. Her eyes were a deep dark brown and her smile annoyingly open and honest.  
“You know why you are here, yes? Don't you think it would be better to … actually use this time?”  
“I do not believe there is any use I could get out of it,” Illya replied, biting back a smirk.  
“Concerns have been raised about your behavior in the recent weeks. Does that not make you pause and think?”  
“It makes me think that people put their noses in things that do not concern them.”  
“So … you admit that there is some cause for concern.”  
“I … do not,” Illya furrowed his brow, deciding that it would be better not to say anything anymore.  
“It has been suggested that your change in behavior correlates with the arrival of Agent Khan.”  
Illya did not move a muscle.  
“She and Mister Solo did an admirable job during their mission in Kentucky. It would be only natural if you felt … jealous.”  
Illya lowered his head, noting that the sunlight had moved a few more inches.  
“Or maybe it's not jealousy per se, maybe it is concern that she could threaten your partnership with Mister Solo.”  
He shifted a bit, his back starting to complain. Weren't couches in psychiatrist's offices usually comfortable? Apparently Doctor Miller had not gotten that memo.  
“Alright,” she closed her file, her tone suddenly matter of fact. “This seems to be a waste of time for both of us. I just want you to know that this meeting is not on record. If your behavior should continue to be cause for concern, there will be other steps to take. You are a professional and I know you care about the work you do. So maybe you should think about taking care of it yourself, before it will have official consequences.”  
Illya looked up at her again. “Are we done?”  
“Yes, we are done,” she sighed, drawing a hand through her black, curly hair. “You can go.”  
He got up and left her office without another word. 

Illya made his way from the UNCLE medical ward to the office he shared with Napoleon, navigating the chrome corridors easily. Doctor Miller's words were going round and round in his mind – she was absolutely right, he somehow had to get a grip on himself. If even Waverly noticed that something was off, and sent him to see the Doctor … He could not let some silly emotions interfere with his work. However, what really annoyed him was the fact that Waverly had also noticed the reason for his erratic behavior and had shared that insight with the Doctor. Was his frustration with Agent Khan really so obvious? At least, he thought while he approached their office door, they only knew half of the story.

Speaking of Agent Khan, when he went into the office without knocking, she was there. Leaning against a wall, Napoleon's hand next to her waist, halfway closing her in. They were laughing about something before Illya's arrival startled Napoleon, causing him to move away from her. She, in turn, did seem unperturbed.  
“Don't mind me,” he bit out the words, walking quickly to his desk. He shuffled through his lab notes, glancing at the pair, wondering if there really had been a flicker of guilt on Napoleon's face.  
Chae chuckled nervously and handed Napoleon a folder. “Anyway, good luck with your mission, Napoleon. Waverly sent me to give you the briefing documents, so … there you go.” She smiled at him and then, without acknowledging Illya, left the office. 

Illya collected the papers he needed and then looked up. “What mission?” he asked.  
“I'm just investigating a new number station. It'll be probably just me in a hotel room listening to gibberish all day,” Napoleon mumbled distracted, opening his folder. There was something about the way he held his shoulders, in the lines around his mouth that told Illya to tread carefully.  
“Where do you have to go?” he asked.  
“In a few hours,” Napoleon said and Illya had to swallow, noting the uncharacteristic coldness in his partner's voice.  
“I asked where,” he replied. He got out his tinted glasses from his pocket, fiddling with the sides. Normally Napoleon was the one to ask if they would spend time together outside of work, but lately he had not. Maybe it was time he took some initiative himself ... “When you come back, maybe we could go out for dinner? There is this new Russian place I've been meaning to go to. I promise I won't make you try kvass again.”  
Something softened in Napoleon's eyes and then, he smiled. “Of course we can. And it's down in LA.”  
Illya nodded and put on his glasses. “Then, I will see you soon.”  
“Yes. And … maybe try to be a bit nicer to Chae. She's a great agent and you would get along well if you gave her a chance.”  
Napoleon had gone to his own desk, collecting what he needed for his mission.  
Illya stared at him for a moment, not sure how to respond. In the end, he only mumbled a goodbye and left quickly for the labs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is based on a RP, which was written back in January. Sunny played Chae and I took on the boys. The rest of the chapters will be put up during the next week or two.


	2. Preparation and Planning

The next day Illya got a call from Napoleon, who was complaining about how boring it was in his hotel room, listening to random numbers all day. They chatted a bit, Illya quite happy that Napoleon did not mention Chae, until he realized that Napoleon had probably called her as well.  
When he came into work the next day, he noted that the atmosphere was a bit strange. Luise caught up with him as he was already on his way to the lab.  
“Illya, wait!” she smiled at him and he forced himself to smile back. “Have you heard from Napoleon?”  
“Yesterday evening. Why?”  
“It seems he missed his check-in this morning. I just thought that you might know something.”  
“I'm afraid not. I do have to get on with my work.”  
“Of course. I will see you later.”

Illya checked on the state of his samples and then went into a corner, getting out his communicator.  
“Open Channel D please,” he waited for the connection to build before he spoke again. “Napoleon? Are you there?”  
No answer. He felt a pang of irritation, but it was probably nothing. Besides, he had work to do, the new explosive buttons would not invent themselves.  
He missed lunch, being absorbed in his work and by four was hungry enough to make his way to the canteen. He passed April and Mark talking intently. To his annoyance they asked him about Napoleon as well, who apparently still had not checked in. Sitting down with his sandwich he tried to get a connection over his communicator again, but still no answer.  
Instead of going back to the lab he went to the communications office, asking the agents there if they knew anything, but he got the same answer – Napoleon had failed to check in.  
He went back to the lab, although he was not really able to concentrate anymore. For once, he went home quite early, trying his communicator again and again, not getting an answer.  
Early next day, after a restless night, he first checked in with communications, who did not have any news for him. He somehow managed to work for a few hours and then had to run an errand for Waverly after lunch, which, due to an innocent mix-up, took longer than expected. When he came back to HQ in the early evening, he came by Luise and April chatting. Luise left her and came after him.  
“Illya, there you are! I just talked to the LA office half an hour ago.”  
Illya looked at her impatiently.  
“No news and they still have not reported Napoleon officially as missing, but they assured me that they are working on it.”  
Illya cursed under his breath. “As long as they don't make it official, Waverly won't let me fly down.”  
“You could ask,” Luise sounded very skeptical.  
“I could, but we have several department meetings tomorrow. LA is working on it, allegedly, so Waverly will see no reason for me to abandon my duties.”  
“Yes, I am afraid you are right,” she sighed. “I can call them and press the matter.”  
“Please do. If we are lucky, he has turned up before then,” Illya thought for a moment. “Alright. I suppose you are staying for the night?”  
“Of course I am,” Luise answered.  
“I will as well. The moment you hear something new, let me know.”  
“I promise. We can order in food?”  
“The Chinese place?”  
“I'll get our usual,” she grinned at him and then apparently remembered why they were not going home, her smile faltering. “It'll be okay.”  
“I'm sure,” Illya replied lightly. 

He barricaded himself in the office. Luise and he had a late dinner and then he set up the cot, hoping to catch at least a few hours of sleep. Theoretically he knew that all this worrying was useless and he should continue as usual, but this was Napoleon and he also knew how easily his partner got into strange and often dangerous situations. 

There was a knock on the door, jerking Illya awake. He glanced at his watch, it was five in the morning. With a groan he sat up and stumbled to the door. Luise, miraculously looking awake and rested, was on the other side.  
“We just got word from LA, they have reported Napoleon officially as missing.”  
“Finally,” Illya grumbled “Is there any other information?”  
“Just that he disappeared and failed to check in.”  
He cursed in Russian. “Have you told Agent Khan?”  
“I'm sure she knows he's missing, she was working yesterday after all,” Luise looked at him a bit confused.  
“Where does she live?”  
“That I need to look up. Do you want to go to LA with her?”  
“Yes.”  
“That's probably a good idea.”  
It took Luise only a minute to get him the address, Illya leaving HQ in record time when he had it.

Chae did not live far away and thankfully, she answered the door. “Illya?” she scrunched up her face in confusion, Illya noting that she was wearing pajamas, looking sleepy and very comfortable.  
For a moment he was not sure what to say, he had not thought about how to actually approach the subject. Then, he cleared his throat. “Napoleon is missing.”  
“Yes, he is,” Chae agreed, lifting an eyebrow. “And you found out where I live just to tell me something I already know? At … half past five in the morning?”  
“Obviously not. But we just got word that LA made it official. So, I want you to come to Waverly with me and then to LA. It would be stupid to go on my own and … Napoleon said you are a good agent,” he tried to sound nonchalant, knowing he failed.  
Her shoulders slumped and she sighed his name softly. “Illya … come in, I'll make us some tea. We can talk about it.”  
“I would rather go to Waverly right now. I feel like I have already wasted too much time. Whatever they are doing down there, they are not finding him,” he hesitated only for a second before adding a “please.”  
“Don't … ask me like that. How can I say no?” she mumbled. “I'll get changed, then we can go.”

_Chae was quick to change into her usual blouse and pencil skirt ensemble, a skill learned and best practiced with a war going on outside. She would be hard pressed to admit to Illya that Napoleons radio silence had sent her brain into a frenzy, and the office ‘theories’ had made her angry at best. Pushing all that to the back of her mind she looked herself once over in the mirror, sighed and then went to join Illya._

Illya waited impatiently, but it only took her a minute to come out again, this time dressed properly.  
“I do think there is more to this than you let on,” she mused as she locked her apartment door. “I thought you hated me.”  
“This isn't about us,” he replied rather irritated as he led the way down to the car. “This is about Napoleon.”  
She sighed and nodded. “Can I ask why? Or will you continue to be the mysterious Russian you always are?”  
“He's my partner,” Illya said, willfully ignoring her real question. “Can we just concentrate on getting him back?” They had gotten into the car and Illya started to drive the moment she had closed her door.  
“There you go again, being mysterious and Russian,” she mumbled, propping her chin onto her hand as she watched the scenery go by. Illya just ignored her for the rest of the way, glad about the silence.  
Luise was working at her desk in front of Waverly's office. When they came in she got up and went to the coffee machine. “Good morning Chae,” she smiled at her. “Let's have some coffee first. Mister Waverly is already in, but he had to take an important phone call.”  
Illya glared at Waverly's door, but accepted the coffee gratefully. It was not a secret that he was not a morning person and he would feel better to talk to his boss after at least a bit of coffee. They drank in silence and then there was a 'beep' from Luise's desk. “You can go in now. Good luck.”

The old man was seated at the round table, looking up at them expectantly.  
“Good morning Miss Khan, Mister Kuryakin.”  
“Good morning Sir,” Illya did not even bother to sit down. “I want your permission to go to LA and look into Napoleon's disappearance. And I want Agent Khan to accompany me.”  
Waverly nodded slowly. “Is that alright with you, Miss Khan?”  
“My feelings are rather mixed,” she stated bluntly. “Illya seems to be on a war path. I think it would be wise to give him what he wants.”  
“In that case it would be wise if you accompany Mister Kuryakin,” Waverly said before Illya could think of a response. War path? Did they just not get how serious this situation was?  
“I want you to check in regularly,” Waverly continued. “Our LA office will give you all the information and resources you need.”  
Chae smiled. “Thank you, Sir,” she glanced at Illya, her smile almost devilish as she bowed in Waverly's direction and left the office. Illya lingered for a moment, but Waverly had already returned to his papers. He hurried after Chae, catching up with her after a moment.  
“I just need to get my bag from the office, then we can go to the airport,” he said, trying to think of what else they needed to do before leaving.  
“You are forgetting that I need to get my gun,” she said.  
“Well, get on with it then. I'll meet you outside at the car,” he turned around, nearly running to his office. His emergency bag was stacked under his desk and he grabbed it, also checking that he was carrying his gun. After a moment of contemplation he made a little detour to the lab, taking half of the samples of the new exploding buttons he had finished the other day.

Chae was not outside at the car, which annoyed Illya to no end – now that he had a plan he was eager to get on with it. It took five more minutes until she emerged from the tailor shop, a worn out rifle case and a bag similar to his own slung over her shoulders. “Sorry, Mike was keeping me for so long.”  
“If we just miss a plane it's on you,” Illya grumbled back, driving off when she had put her bags away and sat down.  
“We won't,” she said rather too confidently for his liking. Still, he made an agreeing noise and was glad to find that they could easily make their way through traffic, arriving at the airport in record time. At the ticket counter they got a flight that would leave in just an hour, but that still left them with a bit of time on their hands.  
“Let's get some breakfast?” Illya asked when they had checked in their luggage. “We can trade information and make a plan.”  
Chae smiled. “I would love some more coffee and maybe a doughnut, even though I have no information to share.”

At the airport café, Illya took care of their drinks, also getting a sandwich for himself and a selection of doughnuts for them to share. Chae had sat down in a relatively quiet corner and he brought the tray over, setting her cup down in front of her. “I already added milk, but I couldn't remember how much sugar you take,” he laid down a big handful of the little packets.  
“Thank you,” she beamed, tearing open all of them and adding the sugar to her coffee. “How nice of you to remember how Luise made it.”  
He shrugged, taking a sip of his equally sweet, but black coffee. “Let's talk about what we know. Napoleon's mission was to investigate a new number station, which really should have been a routine operation. A day after he left for LA, he called me and complained about how bored he was and that so far nothing had turned up. That was three days ago, the rumors about his disappearance started two days ago and he was officially reported as missing early this morning,” he thought for a moment. “Of course we can only speculate as to what happened. The question is … I should have asked Waverly earlier, but why exactly did they send Napoleon, who is the section head, on such a trivial mission? And also, have you heard from him since he left?”  
“No, I haven't,” she answered, sipping her coffee thoughtfully. “Napoleon rarely calls me.”  
“Ah. I thought …,” Illya cut himself off. He could not help, but feel relieved at her words and quickly talked on. “That means we really don't know much. I will call Waverly later, and we can only hope that the LA office can provide us with some more information.”  
“You thought what?” Chae asked, apparently not taking his hint to let it go. “That we are more of a thing than we actually are?”  
Illya swallowed hard, wondering how he could get out of this particular conversation. “Yes,” he said, hoping that at least some honesty would help his case. “But it's none of my business, so can we please concentrate on the case?”  
“It seems like you want it to be your business,” she stated. “I am an open book, you can ask me anything about Napoleon and me.”  
“I do not want it to be,” Illya nearly snapped. “But … he goes on one mission with you and suddenly you are all he ever talks about.” He regretted saying it the moment he had, but god, he was tired and afraid and it was not as simple as just hating her.  
“We were old friends, from before UNCLE. Being reunited must have been fun for him,” she elaborated. “It is fun for me. And if it means anything to you, most anything he talks about to me is you.”  
“He did not mention you knew each other,” Illya replied irritated. He was not sure if it made it better or worse. “And that man can spin a novel about anything,” he dismissed her last comment, although he felt a certain smugness about it.  
“Is that the only reason you have been so mean?” she asked. “I still feel there is something else.”  
“Mean?” Illya echoed. She was right of course, he had been mean and cold and unfair to her. But her arrival in New York a few weeks ago had not only threatened his partnership with Napoleon, but also questioned everything he thought he knew about himself. If only he could just dislike her for getting along so splendidly with Napoleon – no, he had to develop feelings for her as well. She was clever and fascinating and beautiful and he found himself unable to express those feelings in any other way than being … mean. “I'm sorry if I acted in a way that could be perceived as such. I feared …,” he hesitated again. He could not tell her. He would make an utter fool of himself. “I feared for my relationship with Napoleon.”  
She smiled at his reply and reached over the table to take his hand into hers, warm and soft fingers interlocking with his. “I would never try to tear you two apart. Napoleon would not let it happen either.”  
Illya looked down at their hands. Somehow he could feel her touch all through his body and for a moment he was frozen like a deer in headlights. “There is also the question of why LA took so long to make his disappearance official,” he said, glad for the sudden thought.  
“Maybe they thought they could take care of it themselves,” Chae shrugged. “You are changing the topic.”  
Illya swallowed hard, but before he was forced to say something else, there was an announcement and he jerked his hand away, getting up abruptly. “That's our flight,” he took his bag, holding it in front of him. “Thank you, for saying that. But … let's get Napoleon back, alright? Otherwise, it's all pointless anyway.”  
“Yes, let's do that,” she agreed and chugged the rest of her coffee. He could feel her questioning gaze as they made their way to the terminal. 

Finally, on the plane and in the air, with a few hours to kill, Illya got out his notebook to work a bit more on his equations, but found he could not concentrate. After a few fruitless minutes, he turned to Chae sitting at his side.  
“You said I can ask you anything, yes? And I do have a question, but you will think there is a specific reason for it and … I do not want you to think that.”  
She tilted her head, holding his gaze steady. “What is the question?” she asked.  
“Are you in a romantic relationship with Napoleon?”  
Chae looked away, but he could still see she was smiling. “Not really,” she said. “We've had our fair share of kisses, even a few dates, but I think Napoleon is in love with someone else. I'm not sure there can be room for me in that,” she paused to straighten out her skirt. “He also kept telling me he did not want us to be just a fling, that we had something, but … there was hesitation. It seems he cannot decide.”  
Illya swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral. Someone else? Could there really be someone else, whom Napoleon had not mentioned? He had been so focused on Chae and Napoleon, caught in his feelings for them both, unable to act. But this … changed the whole situation. “That must be hard for you,” he eventually mumbled, not able to look at her.

“Oh come on,” she sighed, bopping him on the shoulder. “It's you, you dumbass. I'm certain it's you.”  
“Excuse me?” now he turned towards her, his heart suddenly beating way too fast. “We are not … Napoleon isn't … you can't just say something like that.”  
“I've known Napoleon for twelve years. We have killed together. I can say with certainty that he is not exactly straight. Especially since I am not either.”  
Illya was glad that the plane was half empty, the seats around them not taken. Still, he whispered. “So why don't you hate me? If you want to be with him, and he hesitates because of me ...”  
“Because I value Napoleon's happiness. Whomever he is happy with, I am happy for him, even if that means I get sidelined.”  
“That's …,” he shook his head, taken aback by her openness. “In any case, I do not believe you are right. And I need to work now, so … thank you for answering my question.” He opened his notebook again and after a moment also put on his tinted glasses.  
“Work, yes,” she chuckled, sounding rather smug. “You are welcome.”


	3. On the Case

Illya actually managed to concentrate on his notes and when he was done, to catch some sleep. The whole conversation was too much to take, too much to think about and he was glad that he could push it away for a few hours.

They arrived at half past ten, taking a taxi to the Los Angeles headquarters. They were shown into an office similar to Waverly's, although here it was a stout woman standing up and shaking their hands.  
“Agent Kuryakin, Agent Khan, I am Ursel Smith. Please, sit down. You are here to look into Mister Solo's disappearance?”  
“Yes, we are,” Chae replied as she took her seat, Illya sitting beside her.  
“The last time he checked in with us was three days ago, and you only reported him officially missing early this morning. But he disappeared before that, so what's the delay?” Illya took the word.  
Smith sat up straighter. “I assigned an agent to Mister Solo, to give him all the support he needed. That agent, Frank Webb, believed that Mister Solo was not missing, but had to go undercover. I was not convinced, but I trust my agents.”  
“Why were you not convinced?”  
She sighed. “There were signs of a struggle in Solo's hotel room. Frank thought them staged, apparently Solo told him that something like this might become necessary. But even if that is true, I have to follow regulations, and so does Solo. He failed to check in the last couple of days and we cannot reach his communicator. So, I reported him missing.”  
Illya thought for a moment. “Do you have any information on that number station? Or why Napoleon would think it necessary to stage his disappearance?”  
“I can give you the information I gave him,” she slid over a thin brown folder. “Other than that, I cannot tell you anything. Solo did not share whatever he had discovered.”  
“And Frank Webb? Napoleon might have told him something.”  
“Frank disappeared early this morning. We are trying to get hold of him, but so far we had no luck. Which is another reason why I changed Mister Solo's status.”  
“How do you know he disappeared?” Chae asked. She had glanced at Illya, worry clear on her face.  
“He was scheduled for a medical check-up late last night. He missed it and communications tried to reach him all night. They sent an agent in the early hours of the morning to his flat, there were again signs of a struggle.”  
“So Webb and Napoleon disappeared and it would be logical to conclude that the reason is their connection to the number station,” Illya said.  
“Indeed,” Smith nodded. “And since you are already here to look into Solo's disappearance, I will make Frank your case as well. You will get all the assistance you need.”  
“Thank you,” Illya said. He glanced at Chae, giving her a quick smile. “We need access to Napoleon's hotel room, Webb's office and his flat.”  
“Of course. My secretary will give you the information.”  
“Are you still monitoring the number station?” Chae asked.  
“Yes, we are. But they stopped broadcasting during the night.”  
“And you have not managed to crack the code?”  
“My people are working on it, but so far they did not come up with anything. Most number stations are very random after all.”  
“Please let us know as soon as it gets on the air again,” Illya got up. “We will check in with you once we did some leg work.”  
“Good luck,” she offered them her hand again.

Outside the office they got the address of Napoleon's hotel and Frank's flat, as well as a key for the latter, from the secretary.  
“I think we should split up,” Illya said when the secretary had returned to her desk. “I take the hotel room, you can check out Webb's flat – we can meet again here and go through his office. Is that alright?”  
Chae hesitated, turning the key and piece of paper in her hands. “That sounds like a bad idea. If THRUSH has any idea that we are looking for Napoleon, it will be easier for them to ambush us, if we are not together.”  
“We don't even know it is THRUSH,” Illya said, thinking for a moment. “Alright, but we should work as quickly as possible. Let's do Webb's office first then,” he turned back to the secretary, getting the directions to the office. He also asked her to have a car waiting for them when they were done.  
“Who else would it be other than THRUSH? Or … Napoleon told me about that crazy old lady, maybe it's her?” Chae asked as they were making their way down the corridor.  
“What crazy old lady?” Illya asked, finding Webb's name on a door to their left. “There we are,” he put in the key the secretary had given them, opening the door.  
“That Partridge lady. Napoleon told me she seemed a bit … unhinged,” Chae went in first, looking around the sparsely furnished office.  
“As far as I am informed, and believe me, I do keep a tab on them, Emory and Edith are still safe and secure in prison,” Illya went over to the desk, shuffling through the papers. There did not seem to be anything useful. “I can check up on them, if that makes you feel any better,” he offered.  
She let out a low chuckle before shaking her head. “It'll probably be just THRUSH then,” she had gone to the file cabinet standing against the wall, opening the first drawers.  
“It could also be the mafia,” Illya said. “Someone else from our checkered past who wants revenge. Someone unrelated. Or maybe it was just an accident. There is no use speculating as long as we don't have any facts.”  
“My money is still on THRUSH,” Chae tried to open the last drawer, finding it locked. “Look here, maybe that could be something.”  
Illya walked over to her, getting out his pocket knife. She stepped to the side and he knelt down to make quick work on the lock, opening the drawer. It was empty, except for a silver pen. Illya took it and weighed it in his hand, after a moment unscrewing the top. “Why would Webb keep his communicator in a locked drawer?”  
“Shady, shady,” Chae said, leaning over Illya's shoulder to get a good look at it. “Does it work like normal? It looks pretty normal, so I don't get why he wouldn't have it on him.”  
Illya frowned and turned it in his hands, catching sight of something. He pulled the clip away. “There,” he nodded at it and held it up for Chae to see. Under the clip was the small engraving of a familiar shape, a hardly detectable bird. “Why does THRUSH always have to leave their mark on things?”  
Chae grinned. “Told you so,” she patted Illya's shoulders before straightening up. “This sure does implicate something fierce.”  
“And it means we can't trust anyone. It could be Frank Webb is a traitor, or it could be someone planted it here to make him look like one,” Illya got up as well, putting the communicator back together and pocketing it. “I would suggest we keep this between us for the moment. I think we should check the hotel next, and we can take care of our own accommodations on the way.”  
Chae nodded. She led the way to the surface, where the secretary was waiting for them in front of a car, having a smoke. She handed Illya the keys. “There you go. Good luck.”  
“Thank you,” Illya said. “What was your name again?”  
“Madeline,” she smiled at him. “Call me if you need anything.”  
“We will.”

Illya drove to Napoleon's hotel. It did not have any stars, but looked clean and orderly. They went to the front desk, Illya explaining what they wanted. They were shown to the room on the second floor, which was locked up and cordoned off with police tape.

Chae chuckled nervously when the door was opened for them, the sight quite unsettling. The room looked shaken up, there was a broken table, the lamp in the corner knocked over and shattered. Illya moved past her into the room, scanning the carpet for blood stains, but could not find any. Then, he made quick work of it. He started with Napoleon's suitcase, checked the furniture, and then looked under the bed and cupboards. Lastly, he glanced into the bathroom.  
“I think we can safely say Napoleon did not go undercover,” he turned to Chae, who was still standing at the door. “He did not take any clothes, his toothbrush is still here and most importantly his gun,” he nodded at the suitcase. “Also, I found this rolled under the bed,” he held up another silver pen. “It's Napoleon's communicator. No wonder they could not reach him.”  
“So he was kidnapped,” Chae sighed as she took in the scene once more. “Should we get some listening equipment, so we can monitor the number station ourselves?”  
“Yes, that's a good idea. But first, we should go to Webb's place,” Illya pocketed Napoleon's communicator as well and then packed Napoleon's suitcase, taking it with him as they went outside again. “You drive and I call Waverly for an update.”  
Chae nodded as she got into the driver's seat. “I should warn you, I have not driven since the war. But I guess it's all the same,” she mumbled, managing to start the engine.  
“How exactly do you do this job without driving?” Illya asked, taken aback.  
“I usually have Mike drive, or take a taxi. In my time in Moscow I walked a lot,” she explained.  
“Well, try not to crash us,” Illya handed her the map of the city and pointed at Webb's flat. Then, he got out his communicator, for a moment fumbling with the three pens in his pocket before he got the right one. He was patched through to Waverly almost immediately.

“Ah, Mister Kuryakin. I was wondering when I would hear from you. How is the situation?” the transmission was loud enough for Chae to hear.  
Illya took a few seconds to gather his thoughts before he spoke. “The number station has stopped broadcasting sometime during the night. Frank Webb, the agent assigned to Napoleon, has disappeared sometime during the night as well. We are now looking into his disappearance on top of Napoleon's.”  
“I see.”  
“We have found a communicator made by our feathered enemies in Webb's office. We just have found Napoleon's communicator in his hotel room. The evidence lets us conclude that Napoleon was abducted, although we cannot say how Webb is involved in it. Yet.”  
“What are you doing at the moment?”  
“We are on our way to have a look at Webb's flat, apparently there are signs of struggle. We will get a radio set later to monitor the number station ourselves.”  
“It sounds like you have a good plan.”  
“Sir … I assume Napoleon's mission was to find a mole here, and not just to look into the number station.”  
“It was indeed. I wanted you to have an unbiased attitude.”  
Illya glanced at Chae, who rolled her eyes at him before looking on the road again.  
“Is there a possibility that we are dealing with more than one mole? The fact that we found the THRUSH communicator in Webb's office, albeit locked away, could suggest he felt safe enough to leave it there. Or it could have been planted”  
“That you will have to find out yourselves, there is nothing more I can tell you. We suspected a mole in the LA office and we believed the number station to be connected to it, but as to their identity or number – that was Mister Solo's job to uncover.”  
“And now it's ours,” Illya mumbled. “Alright, thank you Sir. We will keep you updated.” 

He ended the call and put the communicator away with a sigh. “We should grab something to eat, I am getting really hungry.”  
“Oh, the famous Kuryakin appetite strikes,” Chae laughed. “But in all seriousness, I am hungry as well. Let's get bulgogi after this.”  
“Sounds good to me,” Illya said. “Do I want to know what Napoleon told you about my appetite?”  
“No, you don't,” she laughed again. “Ah, there we are,” she pulled into a free spot in front of a large building.  
Illya glanced at her irritated, not quite sure what had been so funny about his question, but then just got out of the car and led the way up to Frank's apartment. Chae handed him the key and they went inside.

As Miss Smith had said, there were clear signs of a struggle: overturned furniture, broken glass, even some fresh blood stains on the bedroom floor where a suitcase was lying half-filled on the bed.  
“Looks like he was packing and got a surprise visit,” Illya commented and then dropped to his knees, checking the space under the bed – but this time all he could make out was dust.  
“The plot thickens …,” Chae said, putting her hands on her hips. “So … food?”  
Illya got up again, taking one last look around. “Yes. But let's get that radio equipment from HQ first. And maybe we should try to find a way to not let HQ know where we are staying.”  
“We don't know ourselves yet in any case,” Chae nodded. “After you,” she motioned to the door.

They drove back to HQ, giving a quick update and then organized the radio equipment, which was packed into a small suitcase. Illya took the wheel again and on the way out of the city center he spotted a small hotel which looked suitable, a Korean restaurant a street over.  
“Food first?” he asked.  
“Food first,” Chae agreed.

They got a table in a corner of the nearly empty restaurant, Chae striking up a conversation with the Korean waitress. Illya noted how she seemed more relaxed now, a happy smile on her face as she talked in her mother-tongue. His Korean was rusty at best, but he managed to follow the conversation.  
_“What would you like to drink?”_  
_“Water, please,”_ Chae answered.  
_“And what does your boyfriend want?”_  
Chae blushed instead of giving an answer.  
_“Oh, I'm sorry,”_ the waitress said. _“Are you not dating? I thought you were a really cute couple. I apologize.”_  
Chae just shook her head and took up the menu, trying to hide her bright red blush from Illya.  
_“Water as well, thank you,”_ Illya said, deciding to save her from the embarrassment and hoping that his accent was not too bad. _“And bulgogi, two portions. Big, if possible.”_ He politely did not look at Chae, but seeing her blushing like this made him feel like … he wanted to protect her, take her in his arms … he swallowed hard, pushing the thought away.  
The waitress nodded. Chae looked relieved when she had left and burst out into an embarrassed giggle. “Did you understand her, calling you my boyfriend?” she asked in a rather hushed voice.  
“I did, yes,” he said. “And did she call us a cute couple?” he raised an eyebrow.  
“Yes, a really cute couple …,” she smiled. “Oh wow. I guess we are. Two foreigners in a foreign country, you know?”  
He smiled politely, glad that the waitress approached with their water. He took a sip and tried desperately to think of another topic. “This always feels a bit weird, doesn't it?” he asked eventually. “To sit down and take a break, while your partner is in peril.”  
“Well, if we don't, we would be in peril, too,” she said.  
“I know. It still feels weird.”

The food came, saving Illya from any more talking. He only looked up from his plate again when he had finished it. “There is something else,” he said. “I think we should just take one hotel room. Then, we can take shifts sleeping and listening to the radio.”  
Chae had seemed content to eat in silence and had finished her plate at about the same time as Illya. “That sounds like a fine plan.”  
“Good. Do you think we should get some more food to take away, if we get hungry later?”  
“Of course,” she grinned at him and he nearly rolled his eyes.

Illya paid for their food and also got a big bag of snacks for them, after which they checked into the hotel. Their room turned out to be quite small, dominated by a double bed, but it was clean and tidy. Illya busied himself setting up the radio and turning into the frequency, only getting static.

“You can sleep first,” he glanced at his watch. It was late in the afternoon by now. “I will wake you up in a few hours.”  
Chae had watched him and now nodded, getting a t-shirt out of her bag. She undressed and got ready without paying Illya any attention, laying down on the bed and somehow taking up most of the space. “Good night, Illya,” she muttered and closed her eyes.  
Illya could not help, but steal a few glances. He was glad when she disappeared under the covers, and took off his jacket before settling into a chair. “Good night,” he murmured back and then, out of some strange impulse, he asked, “you know I do not actually hate you, yes?”  
“I know,” she answered from somewhere under the blanket. “I'm starting to think you rather like me,” she laughed quietly. “I do not hate you, too.”  
“Good night then,” he was glad she could not see his smile.  
He listened to her breathing getting more steady, and then to the radio. After two hours his back was complaining, the chair not very comfortable, and so he went to bed, quietly laying down on the small space Chae had left. He stared up at the ceiling, the static from the radio weirdly calming. After another 30 minutes he was asleep. 

Illya woke up from his light sleep when Chae snuggled up to him, her head somehow having ended up on his chest, her arms pulling him closer. He had no idea what to do, but god, it felt nice. After a while he reached up and stroke over her soft hair, again and again, unable to stop.  
Then, the static stopped.  
“Hello?” an all-too-familiar voice suddenly filled the room. “If anyone is listening, my name is Napoleon Solo, I'm an UNCLE agent. Currently, I'm a prisoner of THRUSH. I don't have much time, but please, call this number …,” he rattled off the emergency number for their New York office. “I am held prisoner north of Los Angeles, somewhere underneath the Hollywood sign,” there was silence for a moment and then Napoleon whispered. “I think I heard someone coming. Illya, Chae, if you are there, I am trying to get out, but this place is a labyrinth and I sprained my ankle. Please -,” he broke off abruptly, the static starting again.  
“Chae?” Illya sat up, pushing her off him. “Did you hear that?”  
She grumbled in response, hardly awake. “What the … Illya?” She slowly sat up, wrapping herself in the blanket. “What's going on?”  
“Napoleon just broadcast on the frequency,” he got up, grabbing his jacket. “Hurry and get dressed, we know where he is.”  


She muttered a curse in Korean and got up, dressing quickly. She got her rifle bag, getting the gun out and slinging it over her shoulder before she walked out of the door. Illya followed just a step behind.


	4. Showdown

It was in the middle of the night, the streets deserted. They got in the car, Illya driving north.  
“Apparently THRUSH has a base underneath the Hollywood sign, if you can believe it. Napoleon said his ankle is sprained and the place is like a labyrinth. Can you make a call to Waverly, informing him? We could also do with some backup.”  
Chae did as he asked, Waverly promising to send them back-up as soon as possible. She leaned her head against the window when she was done, looking at Illya. “Can't really blame Napoleon on his timing …,” she mumbled.  
“What timing?” Illya glanced at her, feeling a bit unnerved. They had reached the outskirts of town, driving up the hills now.  
“Nothing. I'm just grumpy from waking up so suddenly,” she averted her gaze.  
“Ah. Well,” Illya cleared his throat, hoping that she had not noticed how he had petted her hair. “Sorry about that. But let's get him back, and then ...”  
She only raised her fist in solidarity. 

Illya turned on a road he was fairly sure would bring them to the landmark. And really, after a few minutes he could make out a sign in the dim light of a streetlamp telling them they were on the right way. The road got gradually worse as they climbed up the hill and made their way around in a big loop. They could see the lights of the city blinking in the night and Illya parked in a spot that he judged to be in a safe, but still manageable distance.

“Are you ready?” He got out his own gun and checked that it was loaded and the safety on, and then also grabbed a flashlight. Chae got out and put a scope and a silencer onto her rifle, shouldering it.  
“I'm ready,” she stated confidently.  
Illya followed, touching her arm lightly. They stood silently for a moment, listening. There was nothing to hear, except the wind and the cry of an owl in the distance. They had no idea where the entrance was, but Illya figured that near the sign would be a good place to start looking. It was nearly a full moon, so he did not use the flashlight as they made their way down the path. Finally, the ground broke away and they could see the sign before them, the white letters clearly visible in the relative darkness. Beneath them lay Hollywood and they took a moment to take in the view of the nighttime city, before they carefully went off the path and down the steep hill. Illya offered Chae his hand, which she took. “I can't really imagine the entrance will actually be here,” Illya whispered when they had reached the installation, standing behind the 'O's. “That would be very obvious, wouldn't it?”  
“THRUSH tends to be very obvious and dramatic, I wouldn't be surprised …,” Chae whispered back, now holding on to his arm.  
“Indeed,” he examined the steel rods holding the letters. “Let's get around and have a look from the other side,” he took her hand again and led them to the back of the 'D'.

The moment they were about to step around it, they heard a sound somewhere above them. Chae looked back, squeezing Illya's hand and they crouched down into the shadow of the letter, Illya hoping that it would give them enough of a cover. He pulled her closer, listening to the person breaking through the undergrowth somewhere above them. Their breathing seemed too loud and Illya was sure they would be discovered … But then, Chae looked up and just kissed him, pressing her soft lips to his. She kept him still with a hand behind his neck, as the steps above them came closer, but then passed, slowly getting quieter. Illya had frozen under her touch, for a moment everything focused on her, but then became acutely aware of their surroundings again. He pulled away and carefully got up, staying in the shadow. He could make out a dark figure to their left and there was something familiar about the way they held themselves … and then, in the blink of an eye, they vanished.

“Chae, did you see?” he whispered. “The entrance must be over there.”  
She nodded slowly. Illya led the way over to where the person had disappeared. There was a patch of even ground and for a moment he was confused, but then he made another step and noticed that the ground had changed beneath his feet.  
“A trapdoor,” he whispered and got down, sweeping his left hand over it to find the edge. “Keep your gun ready, I'll try to pull it up,” he put his own gun away. Chae took position behind him, keeping the rifle pointed at the door. Illya had found a part where he could easily slip his fingers under the wood, and raised it slowly. It was dark inside and he could barely make out the steps leading down into the hill. “Let's do this?” he looked up at Chae.  
She nodded and took a hold of the door for him, so he could go in and descend down the stairs. Following right behind him, she closed the door above them quietly. Illya had switched on the flashlight, glad that the stairs seemed to be well constructed. At the bottom a door made of steel awaited them. Illya tried the handle, but found it locked. “Do you have a hair pin?” he asked Chae. “Explosive might attract attention.”  
She hummed as she rustled through her hair and then her pockets, before producing a hair pin which she handed to Illya.  
“Thank you,” he passed the flashlight to her and made quick work of the lock. The door opened to a long hallway, white neon light giving it a very surreal atmosphere. There was another door at the end of it. They exchanged the flashlight and the hairpin and then Illya led the way again, holding his gun at the ready. That door was not locked and they stepped into a big room, several doors leading in different directions. It was eerily quiet and they looked around, examining the doors.  
“I have no idea where to go,” Illya said.  
“I don't either,” Chae murmured. “But they must be keeping Napoleon somewhere ...”  
“Or he is still at large. Maybe he already made his way out of here …”

At that moment, one of the doors opened. Illya whirled around, pointing his gun at two burly THRUSH men, their machine guns at the ready.  
“Chae, hold it,” Illya whispered, staring at them.  
“You are early,” the left one grunted. “Drop your weapons, the mistress is waiting for you.”  
Illya slowly lowered his gun. _“Chae,”_ he said in Korean, _“we won't find him on our own. I think we should do as they say.”_  
She growled under her breath as she dropped her rifle and Illya felt a strange pang of pride at this sign of trust. He put his gun on the floor as well and took a step back. The right thrushy bent down and took their guns and then they were shoved through the door, the guards walking behind them as they made their way through a series of hallways. Illya had taken Chae's hand again, concentrating on memorizing their way. Left, left, second door on the right, straight ahead, left, right ...

Finally, they came to a room fitted with computers and big monitors, someone sitting in a chair with their back to the door. They turned around and Illya felt goosebumps appearing on his skin at the sight. “Ah,” he said, “Miss Smith. I should have known.”  
Chae sighed, letting go of Illya's hand to rub her temples. _“Let's beat her up and be done with this,”_ she said in Korean. _“This is already too much stealth for my taste. I can take her alone.”_  
“Hey,” Smith barked. “No talking!”  
Illya smiled at her pleasantly, before he answered Chae. _“Just give me a moment, please.”_  
“I said, no talking!” Smith got up from her chair.  
“Fine, fine,” Illya held up his hands. “But I am curious,” he went on, “Frank Webb. You set him up, I assume?”  
Smith looked torn, but then smiled. “Indeed. Poor Frank. He'll go to prison for the murder of not just one, but three UNCLE agents. He was such a promising recruit, it's quite tragic.”  
“And you think you can just continue … this,” Illya gestured around the room, taking a small step back in the direction of the guards.  
“Waverly and I are old acquaintances. He has no reason not to trust me, especially if the traitor is discovered. And while the number station served its purpose, we can find other means of communication.”  
“I think you underestimate Mister Waverly,” Illya said, taking another small step.  
“I think you underestimate me. Vince, get Mister Solo so we can get this done.”  
One of the guards left, closing the door behind him.

_“Now,”_ Illya said in Korean. Chae took two steps and before anyone could react, she had slammed her fist into Smith's nose, the noise ringing through the room. Illya whirled around and threw himself against the remaining guard. He managed to get a hold on the machine gun, pushing it away from himself and Chae. They crashed against the door, the guard instantly pushing back, but Illya pulled up his knee and watched with satisfaction as the man went down with a loud groan and held his crotch. There was a scream behind him and he glanced over his back, seeing Chae holding up the larger and surely more heavy woman, before throwing her onto the ground. Illya smirked and scrambled for the gun the guard had dropped. He pulled the handle over the man's head, knocking him out. Turning to Chae he found her standing over Smith, her fists clenched.  
“Impressive,” he commented.  
Chae blushed, a big smile on her face as she curtsied. “Thanks. It's what I'm best at.”  
“Oh, I'm sure you have other hidden talents,” Illya looked around the room. “You don't have any rope by any chance? We should hurry, who knows how long Vince needs to come back.”  
“Just use his belt, it's what I usually do,” she bent down to Miss Smith and took off her belt, bringing her in position so she could tie her hands and feet together effectively. Illya followed her example and when he was done, took position behind the door, listening for footsteps.

Chae crouched down behind one of the desks, having taken her rifle back. She looked at Illya steadily. “Are we going to talk about our kiss?” she asked. “Or will you conveniently forget about it?”  
Illya glanced at her, not quite sure how to deal with such a question in a moment like this. “Right now I want to concentrate on Vince,” he said. “But believe me, that's not something I could forget.”  
Chae smiled at him brightly. Illya gave her a sign that he could make out noises coming nearer. The door was opened and Napoleon stumbled in, Vince right behind him. Illya focused and with one blow from behind knocked him out.

Napoleon turned around, staring at the unconscious thrushy in confusion, before he looked up at Illya. “You are here,” he said slowly, a beautiful smile appearing on his face. He stepped around Vince, Illya noting that he favored his left side and then pulled Illya into a sudden kiss. Everything slowed down, Illya finding himself unable to move, but then Napoleon touched his cheek and he desperately kissed him back. In the end, Napoleon was the one to let go.  
“I told you so,” Chae commented dryly from the background and Napoleon turned, making his way over to her. Chae came towards him, a big smile on her face. “I missed you,” she said and then, Napoleon was kissing her as well. Her hands settled on his waist, Napoleon wrapping her in his arms.  
Illya stood there awkwardly, not quite sure what he was feeling – but then he decided to just ignore it and got out his explosive buttons. He went around the room and attached them to the computers. “I missed you, too,” Napoleon said, having finally broken away from Chae. “And you as well, IK.”  
Chae stole another kiss from Napoleon, before she joined Illya. “Do you need help?”  
“If you are done we should get out of here. I have set the timer for five minutes. Ah, we should pull Smith and the guards out into the hallway at least.”  
Chae nodded and they quickly set to work. Napoleon tried to help, but Chae swept his hand away.  
“What if there is a fire?” he asked.  
“There won't be. It'll just wipe the computers. New invention,” Illya grinned, feeling quite giddy to get to test them. “Let's get out of here, before any more trushies show up,” he gestured down the corridor. Napoleon took a step, wincing as he put weight on his right foot. Chae stood behind him and then just shrugged, handing Illya her gun and hoisting Napoleon up over her shoulder.

Illya led the way, glad that he remembered the route they had taken. They arrived at the staircase without meeting anyone else. “Will you manage?” he asked Chae.  
“I can walk myself,” Napoleon grumbled.  
“I'll be fine,” Chae stated, grabbing him more tightly. “Let's get our prince to safety.”  
“You are unbelievable,” Napoleon mumbled, but he made no move to free himself and so Illya led the way up the stairs. The trapdoor was easy to lift and he climbed out, offering a hand to Chae.  
“We've parked not far from here,” he said as Chae set Napoleon on his own feet, her arm still around his waist. “Chae, you get him to a hospital. I'll stay here and sort everything out when our backup arrives.”  
“I'll keep you updated,” Chae smiled at him and then she and Napoleon took off, while Illya took out his communicator to advise Waverly of his exact location.


	5. Aftermath

It took Illya until late morning to get everything sorted. Back-up had arrived half an hour later and they swept the complex, apart from the three tied up THRUSH agents not finding anyone else. But, there were more computers and paper files that would keep the LA branch of UNCLE occupied for the next few months.

It was shortly before lunch when he arrived at the hospital, asking his way to Napoleon's room. He slowly opened the door, peeking his head in. Chae and Napoleon were both asleep in the same small hospital bed, Napoleon's head resting on Chae's chest, her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. He took the scene in for a moment and then quietly closed the door.

The Doctor on duty was filling out some forms at the nurses' desk, and Illya got an update from him. Napoleon's ankle was really just sprained and he needed rest. There did not seem to be any signs of torture, thankfully.  
Next, already on his way back to the hotel, he called Waverly again to update him and talk through the next steps. When he arrived in Chae's and his room he only had enough energy to peel off his clothes and let them fall to the floor. Finally, in bed, buried under the blankets, he found that he was not able to switch off his head. Chae had expressed the right sentiment when she had said she wanted Napoleon to be happy. So what if Napoleon had kissed him, in the joy of the moment it had probably been an unconscious action. The scene at the hospital, was that not what counted in the end? Chae and Napoleon had looked so peaceful, so perfect together. He did not feel he had a right to interfere. So what if he had been lonely for so long, it would not matter if he continued to be so. He had his work to concentrate on, or at least that was what he tried to tell himself over and over again. And, if he really found he could not be around them, he could always transfer.  
Still, as he finally fell asleep after an hour of turning and worrying and thinking, he could not help, but imagine that he had not left the hospital, had instead stepped into the room and laid down with them. And that they would have taken him into their arms. 

When Napoleon opened his eyes it was already getting dark outside. He lay in Chae's arms and carefully sat up, not wanting to wake her. He looked around, expecting to see Illya, but his partner was nowhere to be seen. For a moment he felt guilty for leaving Illya to finish up the mission, but then, he remembered their kiss. A dopey smile appeared on his face. Everything had seemed so simple when he had been kept a prisoner by THRUSH, the question that had tortured him for months so easily answered. Why choose? He loved Illya and he loved Chae. And he could only hope that he would be able to make it a reality.  
Someone was stroking over his arm and he turned to Chae, who looked adorably sleepy. She rubbed over her eyes and then got up to look out of the window. “I need to find Illya and see if he needs help,” she mumbled, sleep still making her voice sound gravelly. “I'll bring him here when I find him, okay?” she came back to the bed and took his hand.  
“Okay, just …,” Napoleon squeezed her hand and then bent down to kiss it. “I love you, you know that, right?”  
“I know,” she smiled. “I love you, too.”

 _She grabbed her jacket on the way out, leaving the hospital. She thought about getting a taxi, but then decided to walk – it was only half an hour to the hotel if her memory of the city plan was correct. In the end, it took her longer than that to get to the hotel because deep down, she was stalling._  
_She did not have a key to the hotel room, but unlocked it with her hair pin. The room was dark, but she could make out a big lump on the bed. She quietly went over and took off her shoes, before sitting down cross legged at Illyas side. Now she could make out the top of his head, his blond hair covering his face. She reached out and stroke it off his forehead, not able to stop herself from running her fingers through the soft strands._  
_“I know you like me more than you let on,” she whispered, not sure if she was hoping that Illya was still asleep or awake enough to hear her. “I woke up to you running your hands through my hair and I thought it such an odd thing for you to do, until I entertained the idea of you … liking me. Everything made sense then,” she sighed. “The petting, that every time we talk about us you change the subject, even your meanness, though I still don't understand the why other than that you had no idea what else to do.”_

There was silence for a few long moments and then Illya opened his eyes. He had woken up when the door opened, recognizing Chae's step. Too afraid to show that he was awake, he had lain still as she sat down and spoke to him.  
“It does not matter,” he said. “You said you want Napoleon to be happy, and that's what I want as well. I want the two of you to be happy. Napoleon and you, that's how it should be,” he could barely make out her face in the darkness, but he was glad for it.  
“Illya,” she sighed. “Napoleon loves you as well. Why would you resign yourself to sadness?”  
“You were willing to do that, so why am I not allowed?” he sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. “I am sorry I was mean. When you came to New York and Napoleon was so obviously in love with you, I … first, I was incredibly jealous because I thought I would lose him. And then, I realized I liked you as well. Which is not possible, because … I am a homosexual. I have never liked women in that way. But then you come to New York and suddenly I have to question everything I thought I know about myself.”  
Chae sat quietly, watching him as he spoke. “I am sorry, Illya. But … have you thought about letting Napoleon date us both? It seems like he wants to.”  
Illya stared at her, trying to wrap his head around the idea. “I can honestly say I have not.”  
Chae smirked. “You must be joking.”  
“It's not exactly a common thing, is it? Besides, are you really so selfless that you would not be jealous? At all?”  
“Why would I be? I am dating the man I wanted to date since I first met him in Korea,” her smirk turned into a beautiful smile. “And I might be dating you as well …?”  
“You mean, the three of us?” Illya had the nagging suspicion that this particular fight was already lost. “I'm not good with relationships,” he tried anyway. “I have never been. So, with two people … I would make a mess of it, I'm sure.”  
“I'd rather you make a mess of it than be stuck sad and alone,” Chae said.  
Illya was quiet for a moment, but then reached out with his right hand to take Chae's. “How is Napoleon? Is he still at the hospital?”  
She squeezed his hand. “Yes, he is. I said I bring you over once I found you.”  
“Alright. I just need a minute to get ready.”

He quickly cleaned up and dressed, filled by a sudden urgency to see Napoleon. He took the driver's seat ten minutes later, Chae sitting at his side. They were quiet for a bit, before Illya found the courage to ask. “How did you and Napoleon meet exactly, by the way? I know it was in Korea, but …?”  
“You might not know this, but I used to be a nurse during the war, before I became a sniper,” she started. “He was the only patient I had who was willing to teach me English, and once I joined the army proper we fought together a couple of times. He even tried to spot me once, but that didn't work out. He isn't the best spotter.”  
“What he lacks in abilities he makes up in charm,” Illya said with a dry chuckle. “So, you fell in love then? It's been quite a few years since the war ended.”  
“Well, it was love with a language barrier,” she paused for a moment. “He did offer … to marry me, so that I could leave Korea.”  
“Of course he would,” Illya shook his head. “Why did you not take him up on it?”  
“I loved my country. I still love it, and I wanted to help. Even though it just got split in half in the end.”  
“But you did not forget him. Did you join UNCLE because of him?”  
“No, it was just a serendipitous coincidence. We met again when I was stationed in Moscow, then we've really hit it off and have been in contact ever since.”  
Illya nodded thoughtfully, for a moment concentrating on taking over a big truck. “He never mentioned you to me. I suppose … since he has feelings for you, he must have wanted to keep it to himself. I can surely understand that sentiment.”  
“You'd have to ask him,” she said. “We weren't exactly official after all.”  
“And we can't be now. I'm not even sure how this is going to work.”  
“We can. We should be,” she smiled. “I don't care what other people think, if that has you worried. And polygamy really isn't that hard, you just date.”  
“Like I said, I'm not good with relationships. The only reason Napoleon and I are friends is because he has a saint's patience,” he thought for a moment. “But I do want to try. And somehow I don't think you'll let me get way with any bullshit.”  
“I'm pretty no-bullshit, no,” she laughed.  
They arrived at the hospital, but before getting out of the car Illya turned to Chae again. “Just … be patient with me, please. I promise I will do my best.”  
“I will be,” she replied earnestly. Then, she leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek. He turned his head in the right moment, catching her lips with his. He kissed her softly for a moment before drawing away. “Let's go and see Napoleon.”  
“Yes, let's,” she giggled. “You cheeky little shit.”

They found Napoleon in bed, flicking through a magazine. He looked up at them hopefully and Illya could tell how nervous he was.  
“How is your ankle?” he asked.  
“Better. They'll let me out tomorrow.”  
“Good. Waverly is flying in tomorrow morning to sort out the mess Smith left. We are to stay and assist him for a few days.”  
“I can surely do with some more sunny California,” Napoleon grinned.  
“I think we'll have enough work to do,” Chae said and Napoleon's expression faltered.  
“But as soon as we are back in New York, I will take you to that Russian restaurant. Both of you,” Illya said, as Chae took his hand.  
“Both of us?” Napoleon asked and then, the smile was back on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading and for leaving kudos (and a comment! It made us very happy :D).  
> (And on a personal note, thank you Sunny for sharing Chae and writing this story with me - it was a lovely experience! - J.)


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